Her eyebrow arched and she cocked her head. “He’s not a psychopath.”
I snorted. I’d lived and worked in the Congo. I saw how decisions made in offices all over the world impacted the people on the ground. The anger fuelled me with just enough juice to make it easier to pull the cannula out of my hand. Blood squirted.
“Your bugs are an abomination, lady. Don’t ever forget that. It’s people like me who will have to go in and clean the bodies up when they escape into the world, which they will at some point, and start killing people.”
“And are we supposed to sit on our hands while our enemies create these things?” she asked, a hard tartness to her voice.
“No, we’re supposed to be working towards a world where none of this is necessary but let’s face it, that’s never going to happen. I just don’t like it when people who never picked up a weapon are turned into the victims of war. Your bugs will make ordinary people victims. Men like me will be given the cure so people like you, because you’ll be on a government list somewhere, will be protected. Your bugs are the modern equivalent to the atom bomb and some people will have access to the bunkers, some will not. To me, that’s wrong.” I made it to the door. Fortunately, the hospital gown was a modern wrap around one, so my arse didn’t hang out the back.
“You are naïve,” she stated.
I couldn’t deny she might be right on that score. I had an idealist lurking inside me somewhere.
My right ankle yelled in protest, but I managed to hobble down the hall. A nurse at the station, tutted at me but my halting Russian made her forgive me and she pointed in the direction of my companions. I shuffled along, waves of dizziness making progress unpredictable.
“Dear God, Mac,” Jacob cursed. I hadn’t seen him coming, he just appeared at my side. An arm around my waist and the world tilted back to the right orbit, so much more comforting and real. “You should be asleep. They gave you enough sedative to knock out a horse.”
“That explains the dizzy spells,” I muttered. “Didn’t like the company.”
Jacob grunted in agreement. “Yeah, she’s something else, that woman.”
“How long have I been down?” I asked as he lowered me into a soft chair. A small whimper escaped because of the ribs.
“Ten hours, maybe a bit more.”
“What happened? I don’t remember anything after you started to haul me to the wall,” I said. He wore clean clothes, but they weren’t his and the pallor of his skin, the dark circles under his eyes worried me.
“You passed out. I hit the water before you and resurfaced, the blast lifted you back up and dropped you again. Then something hit me and I lost consciousness,” Jacob said, now holding both my hands and staring into my face as if memorising every crease.
“I reached you, pulled you under the fire…”
He nodded. “Then you faded out and I swam you to the edge. From there some dock workers managed to get a harness over you and we lifted you out of the water. They called the ambulance, the local police turned up and we came here. That’s when the colonel found me and I… Mac…”
“Lydia, yeah, I know. What happened?”
“The second vehicle had four men in it armed with MP5s. When they picked up on their tail, they drew Brant and Lydia down to a quiet spot near the train station. They took substantial fire, Mac.” Jacob’s hands were shaking in mine.
“Hey, we couldn’t be in both places. She’ll pull through.”
He looked at me, eyes glassy and nodded. We were soldiers, we all knew the risks. Rubbing his clean fingers, as if they’d been covered in her blood, he said, “She took one to the chest, her vest took the worst of the impact but the bullet still got through. The local police turned up, Brant requested assistance from the FSB and between them they finished off the Koreans. Before the local branch of the FSB could take control of the scene, Brant grabbed the bugs, stuck a grenade under the box and blew it up.”
“Good for her,” I said.
“Yeah, don’t think the Russians are too happy about it though. She’s with them and some embassy staff who I guess are actually MI6.”
“How long has Lydia been in surgery?” I asked.
“They had to stabilise her first but about 6 hours now.” Jacob’s hands were still shaking, and I gripped them a little harder despite the pain in my wrist.
“Hey, it’ll be alright.”
He stared at me. “I can’t go to a Russian prison. I can’t do that, Mac.”
Despite the danger I released a hand and cupped his jaw. “I’m not going to let that happen, Jacob. The colonel will get this sorted. Let’s just focus on Lydia for now.”
He nodded and turned a little in his seat so he could lean against me. Kissing or holding each other for comfort didn’t seem wise, not in Russia, but just feeling his heat against mine, our knees and thighs touching where they could, our arms sharing the arm rest between us and our fingers making the most of the contact, was too good for words. We both dozed while we sat there, waiting for news.
It came in the exhausted shape of our diminutive leader. For the first time I looked at Colonel Elizabeth Brant and saw a woman in her mid-fifties who looked like she needed a hug from someone who cared. I struggled out of the chair and tentatively raised my arm. She gave me a watery smile and folded against my chest, her arms going around my waist.
“You’re not as squishy as my husband but this is good,” she murmured, relaxing against me for a while.
“Sorry for not being squishy but glad to be of service, ma’am,” I told her. I might not know Colonel Brant as well as some of the men and women who worked for her, but I did not mistake this for weakness. I offered a fellow soldier a safe place for a moment among the chaos of an engagement and its aftermath.
When she pulled back, she straightened her spine, tugged down her shirt and lifted those big hazel eyes to mine. “It’s good to see you up, Sergeant.”
“It’s good to be up,” I said.
“Well done on the trick with the car. Very inventive, though messy. They’re going to be picking bits of that hel up for months along the coast.”
“I’m surprised there was enough of it left to float away,” Jacob said from behind me. “Are we going to prison?”
“Jacob –” I began in exasperation.
Brant smiled. “That is at least one thing I’ve managed to square away. No, we aren’t being arrested. Though I owe yet more favours in Moscow. I’m going to have to start donating body parts soon to repay my debts.”
A cough roused us, and Brant turned to meet a new body in our waiting area, a man in hospital scrubs. “Ah, Doctor Hussein, what news?” she asked.
I guessed he was the one operating on Lydia. Jacob rose and joined us.
The doctor looked serious, his ethnic origins more Far East than Russian and he stood only a little taller than Brant. “Your friend has been saved,” he said in his accent like something from a shlock American movie of a Russian bad guy. “She is in intensive care and will be for some time, but she will live if there are no secondary problems. We had to remove part of her lung and repair the ribcage with metal, but we have done a good job. The breast tissue was too badly damaged to save, so at some point she will need corrective surgery.”
Bit more information than I needed, and it came as a bit of a shock to realise Lydia was a woman. I mean I knew she was a woman, obviously, but we were a team and gender never occurred to me. Yet another nail in the coffin of my dying heterosexuality I guessed. I felt kind of proud of my lack of gender awareness.
“I’m sure she’ll receive the best care possible,” Brant said. “Thank you, Doctor Hussein for all your hard work and that of your team.”
“That’s why she’s the boss,” Jacob muttered beside me. “Bloody woman can talk anyone into anything.”
I grinned; the relief of Lydia’s survival made us both flippant. “All she’s going to be able to talk me into is a hotel with a spa.”
“And food… Lots of food
.”
With those words my stomach woke up and growled loud enough for Brant to hear. “Go,” she said. “We still have the hotel booked and there might not be a spa, but they will serve steak.”
“I need clothes,” I stated, guessing my previous clothing had been cut off me at some point.
“Sorted, let’s go back to your room,” Jacob said. “Then get out of here. How long will Sergeant Greenbrook be out?” he asked the doctor.
“You can return during visiting hours tomorrow. She should be conscious by then. I suggest her family is informed because she will need specialist care once she is discharged.”
25
The hotel looked like a slice of heaven when we made it back to our room. Brant opted to remain at the hospital but Dilras returned with British Embassy officials to Moscow. My guess – she’d face a full MI6 interrogation on what happened in the Congo, what happened to Jacob’s team, and who ‘sold’ her to the North Koreans. I didn’t envy her. MI6 weren’t delicate when they thought someone might have betrayed their precious Official Secrets Act. I had to wonder if Brant made certain Dilras ended up in the hands of friendlies in SIS rather than Clark’s paymasters.
Clark. Fuck, walking into that warehouse to find him hanging from his ankles, his face cut off, seemed like a very long time ago.
“I’m so tired,” I said as I shuffled along to my side of the bed.
“I know, babe, but you need a shower. You still smell of harbour water.” Jacob approached me and between us we removed the thick lumberjack shirt he’d found for me. I grunted when his fingers brushed the black and purple mess on my right side. He kissed my lips. “Poor, baby.”
“Yeah, poor baby,” I agreed, my head hitting his shoulder. I hit the bad one and he hissed in pain. “Shit, sorry.”
Jacob laughed. “The state of us.”
His scent caught in my throat and my cock took interest. I nosed at his neck, drawing in more of the smell, a dark scent, loam and oak trees, summer wheat and honey bees. Soft kisses made him squirm. “Shower,” he whispered.
“Yeah,” I agreed.
We stripped and when he saw my cock standing to attention as if on a parade ground he blushed, the colour sweeping up his neck, through his beard and making his cheeks shine. I took his hand and led him to the shower. Where had this new version of me come from? I had no idea, but the steps I’d taken to change my life only led one way, upwards, out of the mire of my past. Just the act of being able to touch Jacob gave me a sense of privilege I hoped never to take for granted.
Pushing sentiment to one side, we entered the wonderful world of modern hotels and their shower cubicles. They tended to be large walk in affairs with solid fixtures and fittings. The hot water rushed from a large shower head and I knew then the hotel would get a five-star rating from me on Trip Advisor.
“Bloody hell, Mac, I still can’t believe we can do this,” Jacob said, his body not quite touching mine.
I rubbed my bristly cheek against his beard, the friction electrifying the nerves in my lower belly and making the palms of my hands tingle. He twisted his head and our lips touched. These weren’t deep kisses, more biting and licking, rubbing and tasting of texture and scent while the water poured over our heads. Jacob’s hands cupped my arse and pulled me close to his groin, his cock as hard as mine. His kisses were turning into nips and travelling down my throat. He bit and held my Adam’s apple making me groan. At that point I’d done with subtle. I wanted more from my lover. My beautiful male lover.
I plundered his mouth and he gave way under the onslaught, melting into me and becoming pliant, almost submissive. All pain became subsumed by my lust and I pressed his shoulders until he dropped to his knees, fingers digging into my thighs. Most of the water now crashed over my back, soaking into my dark chest hair and trailing down the thickset muscles of my gut. He gazed up at me, water droplets shining on his lashes, eyes a soft demerara brown, dark with desire. The soft pink tongue I wanted licked his full lips and I cupped the back of his head guiding him to my stiff, dark, aching cock.
His lips parted and drew me into his hot, wet mouth. I could feel the stretch of his lips and his tongue a little rough compared to the soft solidity of the roof of his mouth. He groaned and pushed me further into his hungry body. I gasped and cursed, trying to control my desire to flick my hips forwards. His fingers dug furrows into my thighs. He took more, gagged and I pulled back.
“No, Mac, I want this,” he ordered, lips already swollen.
“I can’t hurt you, my love,” I told him, stroking his head, the very short hair dark with water.
“It won’t hurt. I want it. Please, let me have control. Then, fuck me.”
My heartrate doubled and my chest heaved. “Jacob…”
He rubbed his beard against my balls and shaft making me squirm and tighten my fingers on his scalp. “Fuck me, Mac. I know you want to, and I want it – good and deep. I want to feel it for days.” While he spoke, he licked, bit and rubbed against my groin and thighs. I could hardly bear it.
The thought of him under me, spread open for me, willing to take me, proved all the incentive I needed to allow my ruthless side to exact some revenge for his teasing.
I pulled him to front and centre. Pressed my thumb into the hinge of his jaw, his eyes bright with need, his mouth opened with total obedience. This time I fucked his mouth, water spraying over us as I held his head still. I pushed inside with at least some kind of control, watching as I filled him over and over.
“Fuck, you look so beautiful,” I said. He gazed up at me. “Oh, baby, keep looking at me like that and I’ll come.”
He managed to nod and forced me past his gag reflex. I almost dropped to my knees as his nose pressed into my belly. His hands switched to my arse, kept hold with one hand while his other reached for his cock. I watched him give pleasure to himself while he strained to keep me deep. I let him take control, not comfortable with forcing him, and Jacob slid off my cock, releasing his simultaneously.
“Bedroom,” he growled, voice burred by his cock-sucking. He rose with his ever-present grace and dragged me out of the shower.
“I haven’t managed to wash yet,” I said.
“Don’t care,” he said, turning me and pushing me down on the bed. I struggled up to the top, my cock wilting a little as the pain of my damaged ribs took over.
He snarled something obscene as he rooted through his kit and threw a condom and lubrication at me. “I’m on top, it’ll hurt you less and I’ll have control. I’m not used to being fucked, so we need to take it slow, I’ll need to be in charge.”
I could feel my eyes widen at his operational control and just nodded consent. He squirted lubrication on the fingers of my right hand. “I know it hurts but can you manage to open me?” he asked.
After a hard swallow I nodded. “Anything for you, my love.”
His smile at my words made my heart stutter. He straddled my hips, leaned over and kissed me deep. With his legs spread I found his tight entrance with ease and circled as his tongue made lazy movements in my mouth. Then I pushed inside him for the first time. Jacob pushed back and groaned, his tongue going deep for a moment before he left off his kisses.
“Fuck yes, Mac. I want more of that. The pain is so good.”
“You sure?” I asked. “I don’t think I could take it.”
He bit my lips for a second or two as I pulled out and pushed in a little more. “You will, one day you’ll want it, trust me. When you do, baby, I’ll be there, and I’ll fuck you for hours while you beg for more.”
I groaned at the thought. He was right of course, I’d give him whatever he wanted – always. The sun rose and set with this man. He was my moon, my north star, he was the reason clichés about love existed. He soon coaxed me into giving him a second finger while he kissed me, and rocked deeper and deeper. A vice of hot muscle held me tight, invigorating and scary, obscene and beautiful all at once.
“Enough messing about, I need this,” he muttere
d.
Twisting he took hold of my cock, I hissed out a breath. “Steady, babe, that’s the only one I got.”
“Oh, poor you. Just try fitting this monster into your arse and see how gentle you want to be,” he told me.
I laughed as he rolled the condom on, added yet more lubrication, and turned back. “You need to let me know if anything hurts,” he said. “I’ll try to keep my weight off you…”
Taking hold of his hands I kissed both palms and placed them on my pectoral muscles. “Use me as you need.”
He stared down at me for long seconds. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Lowering himself to my lips he kissed me, took hold of my cock in his right hand, and guided me to his entrance. A spike of nerves on my part threatened to undo all our hard work but he did that rubbing thing against my face which I loved so much, and I gripped his hips, pushing up as he pushed down.
Jacob bit his lips, colour sweeping over his face and neck. “Fuck that’s... too much…”
I tried to push my hips down, but he slapped me as I moved. “Fucking stay still, soldier.”
I followed orders.
He bowed his back and the hot, tight, damp channel tugged at my cock. I had to remember to breathe and when I realised Jacob had forgotten, I stroked his cheek. “Look at me, love. Look at me. Breathe with me. We want this.”
He nodded, matched my breathing and sank onto my shaft.
“Holy fucking hell,” I cursed. “That’s amazing.”
He rocked and tugged on his balls, already high and tight, closing those beautiful eyes.
“No, love, look at me.”
He did and I saw tears gathering. In awe I watched him rise up, still focused on me, push down, the movement easier this time. He wriggled, eyes widening as I brushed against the magic spot inside his body, before he rose again.
“God, yes, that’s what I want to feel,” he moaned.
Every perfect, corded muscle, every line of his masculine body moved with power and purpose. He took exactly what he wanted from me and I worshiped him as he gave it back ten-fold.
Ultimate Sanction Page 20